I’ve seen some really convoluted explanations of ”swój” and so I’m not all that surprised by your comments regarding this particular possessive pronoun. On the other than, I am not sure if my explanations can be any better.

But let’s give it a shot and see what happens. And first things first:

• swój (masculine), swoja (feminine), swoje (neuter), swoi (plural masculine personal), swoje (plural, all others)

Now, take a look at these two examples:

• Dała to jej rodzicom. – She gave it to her parents.
• Dała to swoim rodzicom. – She gave it to her own parents.

Do you notice the difference? From the first example, we can deduce this thing:
that a female gave something to parents of another female.

Compare it with the second sentence. Here, it’s clear that a female gave something to her own parents.

At its most basic that is the difference between a “regular” possessive pronoun and this “swój” business. – It is used when a 3rd person possessive pronoun refers to the subject of the sentence. In our case – the parents of this mysterious woman who was the subject in our example.

It gets all goofy, however, when “swój” is used in the first and second person. Like this, for example:

• Mam swoje powody. – I have my (own) reasons.
• Przyniosłaś swoja książkę? –Did you bring your (own) book?

See what I mean? Why can’t we say “mam moje powody” and “przyniosłaś twoją książkę”? Technically, the grammar is correct, and technically it shouldn’t be wrong, yet, for a native speaker “swój” is the only proper choice in those sentences. And that is regardless of what Polish textbooks written by foreigners tell you.

I would say that in the beginning it’s probably best to remember that “swój” refers to one’s own something-something.
And the easiest way to remember it for a long time is through this:

• On kocha swoją żonę. – He loves his (own) wife.
• On kocha jego żonę. – He loves his wife. (which in this instance would be not his own but some other guy’s wife)

That should help you (or at least my male readers) remember when you should use “swój” and when it’s time for a different possessive pronoun.

Post from: Polish Blog

I have always thought they were one of those relatively straightforward bits in our convoluted language. But it turns out I might have been either mistaken or overly optimistic.

Yesterday I was asked this very complicated question:

Ok, so you say “moja książka” (my book) and “jej książka” (her book). But then you say: “On zgubił moją książkę.” (He lost my book) and because in this sentence “moja książka” is in the accusative (he lost kogo? co?) it became “moją książkę”. And when you say: “On zgubił jej książkę.” (He lost her book) only “książka” morphed into the accusative form, but not “jej”. Why is that?

And my answer: Because it’s Polish, that’s why.

But seriously, this is one of those instances when I realize that Polish possessive pronouns and their declensions can be totally incomprehensible even to the most dedicated learners (and to many Poles, too).

So, in order to make my life easier (because someone out there was bound to know the correct answer), I thought I’d ask this question to a couple of my native Polish friends. But ahem, their responses were not exactly all that helpful:

Friend #1: Dude, you’re right. This is weird. And how come I’ve never noticed this myself?
and
Friend #2: Because, duh, that’s how it is. Can’t you just tell your readers to memorize everything and stop bugging me?

I’ll ignore friend #2 for now, but yeah, friend #1 was right. We always tend to think about possessive pronouns as behaving kind of like adjectives. However, some of them think they’re special, or something.

Take a look:

• my – mój (singular, masc.), moja (singular, fem.), moje (singular, neuter), moi (plural, masculine-personal), moje (plural, all other)
• your – twój, twoja, twoje, twoi, twoje
• his – jego
• her – jej
• our – nasz, nasza, nasze, nasi, nasze
• your – wasz, wasza, wasze, wasi, wasze
• their – ich

And see this? Those guys that have only one form – jego, jej and ich don’t decline. The nouns they describe decline as usual, but those pronouns themselves – don’t.

All others that have all the “adjective-looking” forms behave like good little adjectives should.

And to the question of “why is that?” my answer still stands – because it’s Polish, that’s why!

Post from: Polish Blog

Actually, speaking of pictures, I realized that we’ve never had a classic photo post on this blog before. Hmmm… How did I manage to overlook THAT?

So for today, I prepared a selection of photos that though maybe not necessarily interesting for everyone (and especially not for native Poles reading this blog – I apologize in advance here for any hurt feelings), show a few things that I noticed during my Polish road trips. Things that made me chuckle, or say out loud “what were they thinking!”.

Here we go:

You know those big fonts of holy water you see when entering a catholic church? Those where people dip their hands and then make a sign of the cross. Have you ever thought how the holy water gets into those fonts? And what is holy water anyway? And what happens when the font becomes empty?

Now, this mystery has been solved. This is what I saw in one of the churches in Toruń.

The caretaker came over and poured some “Kropla Beskidu” bottled water into the font, and voila – problem solved. Then he poured some into a plastic cup and had himself a drink. And then left both the bottle and the cup by the font, presumably for future refills.

This is something else I saw in Toruń. Unfortunately, the shop was closed and I didn’t get a chance to investigate this mysterious “schab po żydowsku” up close.

“Schab” – pork loin. “Po żydowsku” – Jewish style. Hmmm…

While driving around Warszawa, we saw this:

I don’t know about you, but if this was my company, I’d never let such an embarrassing typo roam the streets. Or maybe Victoria Group (yes, that’s the proper name of the company - I looked them up on the internet) was hoping that nobody would notice?

And speaking of company names… I have seen quite a few really strange ones around. I can forgive “Bizarro” (a restaurant by the E7 highway), because I’m guessing the idea was to name it after a comic book character. But this made my English speaking traveling companion spit his soda all over the car’s dashboard.

Yep. Blow.

And by the way, here’s something else that makes me chuckle. There is a major jewelry store chain in Poland. They specialize in wedding bands and engagement rings. The company’s name is Apart. I know that it’s just a pretty sound in Polish and doesn’t mean anything at all. 

Just imagine this firm expanding to the UK, for example. Their ads would be simply wonderful – “Apart – the best choice you can make for the rest of your life.”

Personally, if I were getting married, I’d prefer my guy to buy our rings at a place with a more auspicious name – like this one, for example:

By why does their logo look so much like GAP? From a distance it totally had me fooled.
Hmmm… The mysteries of modern Poland.

Post from: Polish Blog

In the meantime, and better late than never, let me tell you about this, and incidentally - not so unique, Polish way of celebrating Midsummer.

First of all, we don’t call it Midsummer in Poland. It’s either “noc świętojańska” or “sobótki” (yes, in plural) or “sobótka” (yes, singular, take your pick). Some people claim it’s also known as “noc Kupały” but personally, I’ve never heard this expression until very recently.

The celebration is as old as the human civilization itself, and it turns out that different cultures in the northern hemisphere celebrate it not all that differently. Of course, as most celebrations these days, this one also has its origins in ancient pagan rituals. Then, when Europe adopted Christianity, in most places the occasion became known as “Feast of St. John the Baptist”*. New name, new image, yet the way it’s been celebrated throughout the centuries hasn’t really changed all that much.

So, how do Poles celebrate noc świętojańska? With bonfires, of course! The bigger the better. And some crazy people even jump over them. Supposedly for good luck, but really… more like for a long stay in a burn unit of your favorite hospital.

My most fond memory of noc świętojańska was hunting (because if you have a bunch of kids doing it, it can’t be called “looking”) for a blooming fern (fern flower – kwiat paproci) when I was a child. Yes, I know, I know, ferns don’t bloom, never have and never will, but it’s tradition and all that. Luckily for the kids, and in the name of tradition, our parents had the good sense to decorate a mighty fern with paper flowers, candies, lollipops and hide it in the woods. Leave some clues around, let a bunch of kids loose and you have a full-blown treasure hunt on your hands. Oddly enough, nobody ever got lost during this activity, at least not for longer than a couple of hours.

After the fern flower hunt, it was time for wianki (singular – wianek)– flower wreaths with a candle stuck in the middle. You light the candle and let the whole thing float away on a body of water of your choosing. This is a strictly ladies (some even say – unmarried ladies only) activity. Depending on the region (or even the country – different Slavic lands have different interpretation of this) this has something to do either with getting a guy’s attention, or getting married, or finding out who you’re going to marry, or as my grandma claimed – wishing for a long, fruitful life (which I suppose has everything to do with who you’ll marry, after all).

Then you gather around the bonfire with a stack of sausages and cases of alcohol and party the night away. This one is an equal opportunity party – both guys and girls are welcome, in fact – the more the merrier. And this is when the jumping takes place.

I’ve always used to say that Midsummer depresses me – after all what’s there to celebrate? The fact that now the days are going to get shorter? But I remember those traditional celebrations very fondly and honestly, I’m kind of sad I’m too old for the fern hunt now. Ah, such is life…

* and yes, this is the origin of the Polish name as well – noc świętojańska. “Święto” comes from święty – saint (as in Saint John the Baptist) and “jańska” comes from Jan - John (as in John the Baptist). See? Same, same!

Image: wikipedia

Post from: Polish Blog

Another one of those things that get me really cranky are free samples that aren’t free.
But let’s start from the beginning.
I was looking for a small bottle of contact lens cleaner, small enough to take with me on the airplane. And I discovered that “travel size” in Poland means 120 ml, which of course is much too large. As I walked from one store to another seeing only 120 ml bottles everywhere, I was beginning to get discouraged. Until one helpful sales lady suggested that instead of a “travel size”, I’d have better luck asking for a “starter size” bottle.

I quickly returned to the store where just last week I had bought my contact lenses (with no “starter pack” at that) to see if they could help me. Sure they could. “Starter” bottles? Sure they had. “What brand?” I was asked. They had a choice of four. (I didn’t even know that many companies made contact lens solution!)

And just as I had been warned before, the “free” sample was anything but free in Poland. I was charged 14PLN for my “not for sale” bottle.

OK, I would expect this in Burkina Faso. Even in Brazil (with apologies to my Brazilian readers), or in Vladivostok (because well, we all know that things are done a little bit differently in Russia), but in Poland? I thought we were a civilized EU country now.

Out of curiosity (and because I had nothing better to do that day) I actually called to the company that made this particular brand and asked what the free sample deal was. And wouldn’t you know it? I was told this:
“If it says ‘free sample’ on the box that means the store got this product as a free sample to be given away as a free sample. Even in Poland.”

So, if a store is selling this “free” sample, it’s just 100% profit for the merchant. Then why do they even bother to list VAT (sales tax) on the receipt?

I guess this is one of those Polish mysteries that will never be solved.

Useful words:

• soczewki kontaktowe – contact lenses
• soczewka (fem., pl. soczewki) – lens
• miękkie (adj., plural non-personal) – soft
• twarde (adj., plural non-personal) – hard
• płyn do soczewek – contact lens solution
• okulary (noun, plural) – eyeglasses

PS. Regarding “travel size” bottles which in other countries are sold even with a plastic “airport regulation” baggie already inside the box, I was told by another manufacturer that “there is no market for this particular product in Poland.” Very odd indeed… What? Polish people don’t fly?

Post from: Polish Blog

But first things first. Yes, imieniny “are”. It’s a plural noun. Only.

• imieniny (noun, plural, non-personal) – nameday

So in Polish, whether you are talking about one particular nameday, or several, it’s always the same – imieniny. Same with “urodziny” (birthday) – another one of those plural only nouns.

But why am I talking about namedays all of a sudden? I was caught totally off guard by one this week. You see, my family doesn’t celebrate namedays. Never have. I don’t even know when my nameday is. And as far as I can remember, no one ever, not even my very traditional grandmas obchodziły imieniny (celebrated namedays). We only did birthdays (urodziny) and that was it. And once you reach a certain age, you don’t even want to do that, especially if you’re a woman.

But what was I talking about? Ah yes, caught off guard by imieniny.

My friend called me up bright and early on Monday and the conversation went more or less like this:

F: What time can we expect you?
A: Huh?
F: I said, “What time are you coming over?” And you eat dairy products, right?
A: Huh?
F: OK, in that case, come at 6PM, and you’ll get some dinner too.
A: Errrr… you know what? I am somewhere between Toruń and Łódź now stuck in traffic and I don’t…
F: You FORGOT!!!
A: Oh no… I didn’t…
F: You forgot about my imieniny AGAIN!

Of course, she was right. I did forget. Most of my friends gave up a long time ago and don’t even bother to notify me about their nameday parties. This particular friend hopes that eventually I will learn, or buy a better wall calendar (the most popular names are listed under the appropriate days).

But this nameday tradition is not nearly as uniform as some would like to think. I read somewhere that younger people can’t be bothered with namedays and of course I wanted to see if this was indeed true. So today, while walking across the Technical University campus (Politechnika) I thought it would be fun to find out what college age kids think of namedays.

The result was an astounding “huh?” Out of the 18 people asked, 15 said “Imieniny? That’s for old folks.” Seven had no idea when their namedays were. And two turned out to be exchange students from Azerbaijan who thought I was after them because they overstayed their visas – they somehow managed to misunderstand me that badly.

So, what’s the deal with imieniny? Is it really only for old folks who are too afraid to admit how old they are (and hence gave up on celebrating birthdays a long time ago)?

The whole idea of imieniny started a long time ago in the Middle Ages. Of course back then, it was not called that. Rather, it was a celebratory feast for a particular saint on a particular day. The church promoted those feasts and actually preferred them over birthdays, because birthday celebrations were seen as pagan. But then, somewhere along the way, the feasts disappeared and what we have now are imieniny parties instead of religious occasions.

In Poland imieniny are big business (the young ones at Politechnika and their answers notwithstanding) and are celebrated just like birthdays – sans the candles, of course. There are big dinners, cakes, flowers and gifts (and don’t forget about greeting cards!).

So maybe by not celebrating my own nameday I am missing out? But then again, as a solenizant (the one whose nameday is celebrated) it would be me preparing that dinner and baking those cakes… Hmmm… Maybe I’ll pass.

Here’s something to remember:

• imieniny – nameday –> solenizant – person whose nameday is celebrated
• urodziny – birthday –> jubilat – person whose anniversary (including a birthday) is celebrated

And a general nameday greeting:

• Wszystkiego najlepszego z okazji imienin! – Best wishes on your nameday!

Post from: Polish Blog

Last weekend, however, has totally changed my perspective. It was a long weekend. An extra long weekend, even. There was Boże Ciało (Corpus Christi) on Thursday, most people took the Friday off too, and then normal Saturday and Sunday. And seemingly everybody, their mother and their neighbor’s dog were out on the roads. Drunk.

Long weekends are deadly on the roads the world over, but this one in Poland was sheer hell. The final toll was 65 people dead and over 600 car accidents. Most of them caused by drunk driving. And speeding. And behaving as if the road existed in virtual reality and not somewhere between Włocławek and Łódź, for example.

Road traffic safety is measured in accident deaths per passenger-kilometer, and while the European average is 4.3 fatalities (as calculated by Allianz), Poland’s is 12.80. This is higher than Italy, Spain and Greece, which are famous for their infamous drivers. Luckily, Poland wasn’t the worst, that sad record went to Hungary, which is the most deadly European country for those on the roads.

I don’t understand why most Poles act the way they do when behind the wheel. Last weekend I saw time and time again people who thought it was perfectly OK to drive a car after drinking two beers. Or three beers. Or more. I saw time and time again people who thought it was perfectly OK to drive 120 km/h in a 70 km/h zone. Who thought that passing on a narrow two-lane country road (you can’t call it a highway) when massive tractor-trailers rumbled from the opposite direction (also doing 120 km/h in a 70 km/h zone) was a perfectly reasonable option.

I also saw the results of such behavior. And trust me, it wasn’t pretty. The many “czarny punkt” signs (accident blackspot), placed literally every few miles on our roads, prove that I am not exaggerating.
Poles are known as terrible drivers in Ireland and in the UK, and I am beginning to realize why. After this weekend, I am cured of any and all future roads trips across the country.

Today’s words:

• wypadek (masc., pl.: wypadki) – accident
• wypadek samochodowy – car accident
• samochód (masc., pl.: samochody) – car
• pijany (adj., fem.: pijana; neuter: pijane; plural personal masculine: pijani, plural other: pijane) – drunk (as in “driver”)
• kierowca (masc., pl: kierowcy) – driver
• czarny punkt – accident blackspot, the number on the left tells you how many people died there, on the right – people injured.

Post from: Polish Blog

I haven’t read this book from cover to cover yet, just briefly paged through the sections that interested me the most. What immediately jumped out at me is the fact that the examples in this book are not translated into English.

Yes, I get it, if someone is reading a Polish grammar book, he/she should have some sort of basic vocabulary already mastered. But on the other hand, if you’re preparing a Polish grammar book for English speakers, why do you treat the examples as if they were written for Poles?

The book was written by a native Polish speaker in Polish, and then translated into English. As such, it has a point view of a native Pole, as well. And unfortunately, because of that and despite its best intentions, it is barely adequate for a non-native speaker. However, it’s a very good reference for a Polish person who wants to learn Polish grammar in English. Though I’m sure this is not what the author had in mind.

The book is not totally useless, though. The grammatical tables are simple and concise, to the point of being too simple at times.
I have a feeling that the author was given a certain number of pages for this project and desperately tried to cram as much information onto them as possible. Unfortunately, our wonderful Polish grammar doesn’t take too kindly to cramming and the book is simply too short (142 pages and that includes the preface and index!) and too basic.

As most grammar books the world over, this one is also written in grammaticalese, and woe upon those who attempt to read it not knowing what analytical gradability is, for example.

I find this book to be an easy read, and the explanations – clear and adequate. But then again, I don’t have to translate the examples to understand what is being said, and I know a lot about Polish grammar already.

However, my resident non-Polish speaker hated it and even though I had ordered him to read it, he only got as far as chapter seven before demanding “that Bielec book.”

Post from: Polish Blog

But one essential phrase is usually missing. It was included in some of the older editions of a certain phrasebook series, along with such useful sentences as: “Do you smoke pot?” and “Where can I buy drugs?” but needless to say, those phrases disappeared from the book’s subsequent printings.

The phrase I am talking about here is “Where is the bathroom?”

I read somewhere it’s one of the most useful phrases that one can (and should) learn in a foreign language. People with PhDs actually had to conduct proper scientific studies to determine that. But that’s people with PhDs for you. They don’t get out much (and I know what I’m talking about, I’m married to one). Because if they had, they would have known just how essential this question is without wasting a truckload of cash in research grants to figure it out.

In English, the question is more or less straightforward. When you ask, “where’s the bathroom?” you can be almost 100% sure you will be directed towards a place featuring a toilet bowl.
But not so in Poland (and many other countries in the world).

If you ask for “bathroom” – łazienka, as in “Gdzie jest łazienka?” (Where’s the bathroom) you may end up in a room with a bathtub and a sink, but not the porcelain stuff you so desperately wanted to use. Because it just so happens, that in most (not all, but in 2 out of 3) Polish flats, a bathroom and a toilet are two separate little kingdoms. One is for washing and baths, and the other – for the other stuff.

So if you want to do the other stuff, ask for “Gdzie jest toaleta?” (Where’s the toilet?).

In public places, if you ask for “łazienka” chances are people will look at you funny. Poles are imprinted to think of “łazienka” as a place where you either wash yourself, or do the wash (that’s where most people have washing machines too – in their bathrooms).

So, in public places, remember to ask “Gdzie jest toaleta?” and get some small change ready. Yes, in many places in Poland you have to pay for the privilege of doing your business. The going rate seems to be 2,50PLN these days. Though I’ve seen a 3PLN toilet too, somewhere in Warszawa, I think.

If there are polite Polish euphemisms for the place, such as “restrooms” or “ladies’ room” in English, I can’t think of any right now. I’m sure that our awesome readers will chime in with something, but remember – I said “polite” euphemisms. Because “gdzie jest kibelek?” (where’s the loo), and the like, are not what I had in mind. OK?

PS. Yes, you can also say “Gdzie jest WC?” but remember to say “WC” the Polish way - “voo-tse”.

Post from: Polish Blog

This will be my very first voting in Poland and I am determined to participate. I have zameldowanie (official registered domicile), I have dowód osobisty (ID card) and I am eligible to vote. Don’t laugh, but for me this is a big deal. I feel like a giddy 18 year old.

There’s only one problem – na kogo powinnam głosować (who should I vote for)?

I said once before that I wasn’t going to write about polityka (politics) on this blog, so instead of politics, let’s talk about the general pain of choosing a worthy candidate.

Oh yeah, the candidates, you can’t have an election without them. And simply put, from my point of view all of them are bad choices. Or maybe I don’t know enough about them to form a positive opinion just yet?

I asked my hosts here about what I should do, and they, in a typically practical Polish manner, advised me to stop thinking about the issues and election promises and vote for the least bad of the bunch.

In order to learn more about the elections, I went to the website of Państwowa Komisja Wyborcza (National Election Committee). There’s a multitude of menu options on that page, but locating a complete list of all the candidates in the country is not so easy.

And when I finally found it, I was disappointed. I was hoping for a bit more than an alphabetical list of names in a pdf format.

I went to ask my neighbors where our assigned election place is, because I have no idea, but they just looked at me with a slightly annoyed expression.
“Glosowanie?” (wybory) the lady next door said. “I have no idea, but I’ll ask when I go to church tomorrow.”
I wanted to know if she was planning to vote. “Nah, it’s my cousin’s birthday, I’m going to Pruszcz right after church.”

I finally found this local election page and it has all the info I needed.

There was even a handy quiz to help me determine which political party is the closest to my personal opinions. The results surprised me totally, to say the least. I’ve never thought of myself as a social democratic leftie.
So, now if you excuse me, I have to read up some more about the candidates that the quiz suggested I have the most in common with.

If you are a foreign EU citizen in Poland, what is the election process like for you?

Post from: Polish Blog